


Bruised to a Pulp

by orphan_account



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, F/F, Idk what to tag this as, No Storm, amberfield, chaseprice, max is a bit less awkward and more fretful, no powers, otp prompt, reckless!rachel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6400801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel gets into fights -- a lot of them. Max has to help her clean up one night when she shows up at her door, beaten and bloody. Max tends to her wounds and attempts to stop Rachel's impulsive decisions. That, however, is not an easy task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Tell Chloe

Knocking.

**Knock, knock, knock, knock.**

Incessant, loud, echoing pounding on the door of Max's dorm room. Her brain and eyes are straining to even come to the conclusion that she's awake, let alone get up to answer the unstoppable noise.

She sits up groggily, balled fists rubbing at her icy eyes and squinting towards her clock. _5:37. What in the hell?_

Max's legs swing out from her bed and bare feet connect with the ground in seconds. She stands and her body feels momentarily unstable. She slumps towards the door and opens it cautiously, creaking it open until it swings all the way ajar. _If it were a robber, I'd probably be dead by now. Wowser. Nice, positive thoughts, Max._

The stranger at the door doesn't comprehend that the door has already opened and, distracted by the frantic knocking, they nearly clock Max in the nose. Max stumbles backwards from the fist and gets a good look at the person standing in her door way, illuminated by the hallway's cheap and dim lighting. Their eyes meet and Max stares wondrously into the infamous Rachel Amber's eyes. Max's eyes go wide at the sight and she almost panics. She's seen her around campus a lot, sure, but never like this.

Rachel's nose is bleeding and her left eye is black, lip busted in more than one place. The perfection that is Rachel Amber looks like she was beaten to near death. Her shirt is ripped as well as her pants, her arms wounded and bruised just like her legs. Her fists look even worse when Max glances at them a second time, bruised and drenched in blood, gouges here and there; And yet she manages to give Max a lopsided grin.

"Jesus Christ, Rachel, get in here." Max reaches for Rachel's wrist and tugs on it tenderly, careful not to grab one of the bruises or gouged areas. She leads her to her desk and moves her laptop to her bed. As she searches for her spare medkit, Rachel makes her self comfortable on top of the desk and plays with her knuckles. Max eventually finds the medkit and opens it up near Rachel's waist, grabbing a bunch of swabs and a bottle of peroxide to go with it.

"Alright, well, no easy way to put this but it's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch." Max begins tending to Rachel's open wounds, dabbing at the areas where flesh pokes out and allowing it to dry before applying a bandage to it.

"Yeah, I kinda - _fuck_ \- kinda figured." Max worked down each of her legs, carefully dressing and stitching Rachel up like a doll.

"While I do this, care to tell me what happened? C-cause I want an explanation for your current state." She stutters when she reaches Rachel's stomach, a gigantic gash in her abdomen. Lucky for her it only pierced her skin. She begins to clean it when a sigh reverberates throughout her patient.

"If I do, you gotta - _fuckin' hell, Max_ \- you gotta promise me something." Max quirks an eyebrow and moves onward from Rachel's arms and chest, addressing her bleeding nose and busted lip first.

"Uh, I guess? What is it?" She wipes up excess blood from Rachel's lips before stepping back and pulling out an ice pack and breaking it. It immediately cools in her hand and she presses it to Rachel's eye, moving her hand to keep it there.

"Don't tell Chloe about this. She'll really fucking flip and I don't want that any more than I want these injuries." Max nods and Rachel sighs for the second time that night, her face crinkling in pain from breathing in and out too hard. _Probably a broken rib. Hopefully fractured. Oh, goddammit all Rachel, I'm gonna have to be your doctor for the next week. Bye-bye, school; hello, Blackwell's beauty!_

"So, as you can see by the scars on my usually flawless body, I got into a fight." Max snickers and shakes her head, a smile escaping her for a second.

"Ahuh, I can see that much." Rachel looks into her eyes and they crinkle a bit as she laughs, the sound heavenly and hoarse.

"Okay, smartass, calm down," she looks out the window as she says this and her face blanks, "I may have challenged the wrong gang to brawl? I dunno, the guy was looking at me weird and while I was sure as hell down to party I was also drunk. He took one glance at me and I decked him in the jaw, his entire pack continued to then attack me." She lifts up her shirt and motions to the reddening bandage on her torso. Worry is seeping from Max's eyes and pores and she can't help but lurch forward and take Rachel's hand in hers. She tries to play it off by leaning against the desk, but it just makes her look a lot dorkier; Rachel smiles at her and tightens her sore hand around in Max's grip.

"However, I did take out the guy that was eyeing me. His goons got the best of me though, and I'm pretty lucky to have only come away with this." Max is the one to sigh this time and Rachel turns to nuzzle into Max's neck.

"Don't worry so much, _Maxine_ , I've got the best doctor in the world taking care of me." Max only laughs and turns her head so that its leaning on Rachel's.

"'Best Doctor' my ass. All I did was basic first aid. Next time you come to my dorm looking like this, I'll actually kill you." Rachel smiles and opens up Max's window, searching for and snatching a cigarette from her torn pockets, lighting it with a lighter left on the window sill. Each time she takes a drag, she coughs a little. Max watches with intrigue at the torn-up model sitting before her, still smoking even though it pains her.

Max moves from her place at the desk and checks her phone, 2 missed calls and 3 texts. She sits at her bedside and notices that the calls are from Chloe, so are two of the texts.

**Chlobear: Mad Max, have you seen Rachel?? she hasnt been returning my calls [11:22 pm]**  
**Chlobear: maxipad pls [2:13 am]**  
**Max: Haven't seen her, Chlo, I'm sorry. [6:48 am]**

The third text is from Victoria, but Max figures that can wait until later. She rests her phone back on her nightstand and grabs her shower bag and a couple towels.

"I've got class later, but you can stay here and rest. You're obviously not going to class, so don't even bother with the 'I can do it' bull. You look like a bear mauled you. So just...nap here or something. I dunno. Don't overexert yourself, okay?" Rachel tarnishes her smoke with a quick smudge on the roof. She peers over the edge and smirks, looking back mischievously at Max.

"Do you think I can survive falling from this height?" The twinkle in her eyes alerts Max, and she puts her shower gear back on her dresser.

"Rachel Dawn Amber, don't you dare."

"Oh c'mon, Maxie! Live life in the moment!" Max runs towards the window, chasing Rachel as she teeters on the roof tiles outside.

"Rachel I swear to Dog!" She follows Rachel until she slides down one of the gutters onto the grounds of the campus. Rachel sticks her tongue out at Max, taunting her as she holds her ribs from laughing and overusing her lungs.

"I'll see you later, hippie! Class just wouldn't be the same without me." She takes off before Max can get a jab in and Max realizes she's been stranded on the roof alone. She face-palms and tiptoes back to her room, crawling back through her window and taking another look at her phone. The text from Victoria is vague, but nevertheless it says she wants to talk. Max rolls her shoulders and shrugs, grabbing the things she needs for her shower once again. She heads out her door, glaring at the mess on her desk that she'll have to inevitably clean up later. Locking her door behind her, she's suddenly being gripped roughly by the shoulders. Swiveling on her heels, she spots the bed-headed, blonde pixie cut that's dragging her unwillingly into room 220. Victoria shuts the door behind them, not locking it, but shoving her bony back against it.

"Caulfield. I know you saw my text, so we need to talk."


	2. Blonde and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chaseprice that was listed in the tags finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also im late as fuck so sorry for that, also sorry for no rachel in this chapter. but i'll make up for it next chapter, i promise ;) until then, enjoy this non-beta'd writing!
> 
> the notes keep bugging out so ughhuhiuanisdn

"Caulfield. I know you read my text, so we need to talk." Victoria proclaims as she shoves her backside into the wooden door, her shoulder bones jutting out and painfully pushing back into her. Max's eyes dart to the ground as she stands awkwardly in the middle of the Queen Bee's room, unsure where to sit or where to even _look._ Victoria was only wearing her pajamas--a white tank top and black boy shorts--it made Max feel guilty for blushing each time her eyes landed somewhere on the blonde's exposed skin.

"I, uh, guess we do." Max says, leaning against a wall full of photographs and posters, putting her shower supplies down on a nearby dresser and shoving her fists into the pockets of her shorts. Victoria props herself in a chair across from the brunette and quietly fixes her hair. Her hands are fidgeting wildly and Max notices the nervous tick (she does it, too) and sighs, walking closer to the blonde and taking one of her hands into her own. Victoria nearly jumps out of her skin, but relaxes at the soft contact. Her hands stop shaking so awful and her hair returns to its frizzy state.

"Damn, ice princess, what's got you so jumpy? You're never like this." Victoria's brown irises meet blue and she can feel what little was left of her resolve slipping away. A small smile appears on her thin lips and her cheekbones poke out below her crinkling eyes.

"You're friends with Chloe, right, hipster?" Max's mouth betrays her and she releases a faux gasp, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes widening.

"Wowser, Victoria, you really can say her name!" Max giggles and Victoria smacks her arm, a grunt escaping her. The view of Victoria's eyes rolling in some form of amusement _with_ her bedhead is one to treasure, and Max really wishes she had her camera on her.

"Can it, selfie ho." Her thin arms rest on the back of the chair and she rests her chin upon them.

"I needed to talk to you because...oh my fucking God do _not_ give me that look Caulfield I swear to fuck." Max is wiggling her eyebrows at Victoria and she laughs heartily at the Queen's reaction. Victoria's face is flushed and Max knows she must have hit a sensitive spot. _Does she...?_

"Oh my Dog-"

"Nope. Stop. I'll toss you out of that window, Max-"

"You like Chloe, don't you?" Victoria's eyes are suddenly gazing out the window, her cheeks and the tips of her ears a vivid rose.

"You do. Holy wow. I never would've guessed that Ms.Cashmere-and-moneybags would have a crush on the ex-punk of Blackwell." Victoria's reflexes are to hit Max with verbal abuse, but she relents. Her pupils return back to the melting ice stare that is Max Caulfield and a groan exits her throat, her head digging deeper into her arms.

"I wouldn't have guessed, either. God, she fucking hates me, doesn't she? Help me out here, hippie." Max gazes at Victoria, wondering what in the world made her change this much. _She doesn't ever care what people think about her, but she does now? What happened in Ms.Perfect's life that caused this? Dog, I hope it wasn't bad._

"First of all, chill. You're sounding like you need some indie music right about now." Victoria side glances at her and mumbles something incoherent, in which Max responds by placing one freckled hand in matted hair and playing with it gently.

"Alright, no indie music for you, although you may want to get a bit in touch with punk music. Chloe loves those tunes." Victoria nods and makes a mental note, lifting her head up to see Max's face once again.

"Don't change yourself too much, I guess. She likes people the way they are, even if she does have a vendetta against you. Just don't mention the blue hair."

"So you think I should stay cashmere and moneybags?" Max's small smile and blazing eyes are enough to answer Victoria's question, but she speaks anyway.

"Of course, you're not Victoria Chase if you switch personalities." Victoria's mind goes blank for a few seconds with thoughts of blue, silky hair -- but she comes back to Earth and her face feels warmer than usual.

"Alright. Thanks, Caulfield. I'll text you after classes and tell you how it goes. You should probably go get a quick shower in, too. I've kept you for way too long, hippie." Max glances at the clock and yelps, hastily seizing her shower gear in her hands and rushing out the blonde's door, uttering a quick "no problem, Tori!" before running out the door. Classes start in no time at all and Max can't be late, so she throws herself into the shower and then immediately heads to class afterward.

\------------

Classes are over with for today, and the sunset is casting faded orange shadows all around campus. She's walking towards her car, short blonde locks lashing out in the autumn's winds, average school day clothes on. Cashmere over a blouse, tights and a skirt. _Nothing can get more exquisitely Chase than this._

Victoria opens her car door and turns the ignition on, seeing blue shades the entire time she's driving. The sun is about as orange as can be, and yet all she can see is blue. Sky, royal, baby, ice -- all different and beautiful blues.

The car stops and she gets out, smoothing out her skirt and tights and fixing her hair using the window. _Perfect, crisp. Can't be anything less than perfect. Have to be a Chase._

She knocks on the door of the suburban house, feeling slightly out of place with her rich appearance contrasting the simplicity of her surroundings. It opens and a pale, lanky, blue-haired figure appears before her. _Sky. The sky is in her hair._

"The fuck? What's a Vortex groupie doing at my house uninvited?" Victoria swallows the lump in her throat and clears it, licking her dry lips before speaking.

"I just want to talk, Price. No arguments or fights planned." Chloe cocks her eyebrow at Victoria, leaning against the door frame, disgust and confusion painted on the canvas of her face. Her sleeve is shown off in the sun's light amazingly and Victoria can't help but admire it.

"And I'm just supposed to believe you? You fuckin' teased me all the time until I was expelled. Give me one good goddamn reason as to why I should trust you, queen bitch." 

"Just let me in, asshole. I really do honestly want to talk. Think I'd double-cross you?" The blonde sneers and Chloe appears even more revolted than she did before, but her eyes soften just the slightest bit.

"I don't think your tone will get you very fuckin' far, but whatever," the door opens wider and Victoria steps in, nose tingling with the heavy scent of Febreeze and minor hints of weed. It's so heavenly simple and suburban that Victoria wants to gag, "Now did you want to talk in my room or are you just gonna fuckin' loiter around with your rich ass?"

"What'd you say about my ass?"

"Said nothing. Now c'mon, I had a blunt lit and Vortex members always have _someplace_ to be." With that said, the blue haired punk leads the rich girl up the stairs and into her room, clambering up onto her desk immediately and cracking her window once again. Victoria finds herself looking far too formal in the contrast of the rebel's messy and graffiti filled space. Victoria leans up against a misshapen dresser and gazes as blue hair is surrounded by smoke snakes.

"Kinda figured you'd be more at home in a place with weed. Y'know, Vortex and all." Chloe remarks, making the blonde scoff and fix her hair idly with her right hand.

"You know I'm more than just a Vortex asshole, right? I'm as human as you are trash." _I'm being so mean and insecure but I can't stop, no, I'm sorry._

"And you know you can get the fuck outta my house? You came here saying you weren't gonna argue so..."

"Shit doesn't always go the way I want it to, Price." Victoria is growling now, on the verge of pure incessant hatred for the punk she so lovingly adores. How can she both admire and yet hate this lowlife? She's perplexed and honestly wishes that Chloe had never came into her life.

"So you admit you're imperfect?" The blonde's eyes widen and her sculpted eyebrows escape from their fixture, finding themselves nearly in her hairline. _Did I agree to that? No, I didn't, I'm perfect. How could she ever-_

"Don't think too much about it, Chase. Now get over here and take a hit of this blunt, it'll feel better to talk when we're both high." Victoria agrees with Chloe's statement and saunters over to the desk, snatching the lit wrap from Chloe's nimble fingers and placing it to her lips. Smoke fills her lungs and then abandons them, this cycle repeating for around 5 minutes until she can finally turn to the punk without feeling so out of place.

"If I'm being honest, I'm not entirely sure why I came over here." Victoria is back against the wall -- across from Chloe so as to distance herself from stupid decisions -- trying to think through the haze in her mind.

"It's cause you're a dipshit, Tori. You forget so much shit that your minions do everything for you, and now you can't even remember why you're here. What the fuck even, Chase?" Hostility leaks from Chloe due to all the smoking she'd been doing prior and currently. All that combined with the presence of Victoria is enough to turn a person feral.

"Excuse me? What do you have against people better than you? Is it because you're absolute garbage?" Victoria is grinding her teeth and Chloe is seething, hopping down from her spot on the desk and slowly pacing towards the cornered blonde.

"You. Better than _me._ Who the fuck do you think you are, Victoria? All high and mighty with your bullshit in _my_ house?" With every word she gets closer and the breaths in Victoria's chest are practically pants. Soon enough she's so close that Victoria can smell the weed on her breath, warm puffs against her neck. A slender, pale finger swipes a line across Victoria's face and pulls back, blue hair grimacing at the amount of make-up on her finger tip.

"You should wear less make-up, Tori. I like the freckles on your cheeks, they're nice." Her lips move closer to Victoria's neck and they're suddenly up against her pulse. Chloe sucks and bites hard on this point of the blonde, assuring that she left a bruising mark. Victoria gasps when Chloe draws blood, but she wouldn't dare think of pushing her away. The contact feels too good and quenches Victoria's built up thirst. When ravenous lips back away from her and smirk confidently, she whines and Chloe only smirks more.

"Wear less make-up," she whispers, tracing her bitten nails over the oblong bruise on her muscular neck, "everywhere except for here. Might need to cover that up." Then the first smile that Victoria has seen today splays itself on her crush's face. Chloe snickers a little, absorbing the look that Victoria has on her face right now.

"Now get out of here, Chase. I think we just had the talk you wanted to have, and if not well, fuck it." Victoria sneers, then suppresses it, nodding hastily and stepping out of the punk's room and house dazed. She sits in her car for a while afterward, still confused after the entire encounter.

_The fuck did I just get myself into?_

**Author's Note:**

> this story is killing me but thats okay
> 
> my tumblr: therainbowcowboy


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